


pick it all up and start again

by weedviant



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Mother/Son Bonding, another shamchat rp, i love them, my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weedviant/pseuds/weedviant
Summary: Connor has an emotional breakdown. Cynthia comforts him.





	pick it all up and start again

**Author's Note:**

> this was another rp on shamchat and i've been wanting to do this rp forever w/ a cynthia and FINALLY it happened  
> i was connor  
> if you're the cynthia and you want credit hmu  
> also i added a little at the end because it left off unfinished

Connor only really started to feel again after his fist went through the wall. That’s when he let out a cry of pain and frustration, pulling his hand back to see his knuckles red and swollen--surely they would bruise--and the skin split slightly in places, letting blood prick through the open wound. It was supposed to be a family dinner, though those never went well; it was his first night home since being hospitalized after his suicide attempt on the first day of his senior year. It was tense at first, but quiet. Of course, quiet in the Murphy family during dinner never lasted, no matter what. Eventually, it had turned into a screaming match, and Connor stormed off to his room. So there he was now, with bruised and battered knuckles and hot tears of rage rolling down his face.

Cynthia knew her son was hurting. She hated having to watch her son hurt. But her husband... was very controlling. She couldn’t help him the way she wanted to. She cautiously knocked on his bedroom door before opening it gently. “Hey...” she spoke shakily.

Connor, who had sat on his bed and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears, looked up, blinking and sniffling. He didn't really expect to be followed, so he was shocked. He stared at his mothering, saying nothing, his trying his best to choke back any sobs threatening to rip from his throat.

Cynthia walked over to him cautiously. “Sweetheart... it’s... I’m sorry...” he said softly and shakily. Cynthia just wanted to make everything better for Connor. She hated watching him hurt.

That's when Connor finally broke. He hadn't ever let himself be so vulnerable in front of anyone for years, but for some reason, the simple phrase caused him to heave out a heavy sob, his body wracking with sobs as he ducked his head, letting his hair curtain his face.

Cynthia came over, her heart breaking slightly at seeing him like that. She ran her fingers through her sons hair, trying to calm him. “It’s going to be okay...” she spoke softly to him, tears in her eyes. She wished she knew what to do.

Connor suddenly leaned forwards, collapsing against his mother and clinging onto her as he sobbed. Connor was an ugly crier. He looked gross and sounded gross. He felt gross when he cried, too. But he couldn't stop crying.

Cynthia held him close, running his back and playing with his hair. “It’s okay... it’s okay...” she let a few tears roll down her face as she held him.

It took a while before Connor calmed down enough to actually form any coherent words. He sniffled and clutched onto his mother, mumbling a shaky, "I-I'm so... sorry..."

She held him close, running her fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to be sorry... it’s okay...” she kissed his head.

 Connor was going to argue that he really was sorry and he had to be sorry, but he was exhausted from all the yelling and fighting. He just let out a pathetic sniffle, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing, because that wasn't at it's finest at the moment.

Cynthia ran her fingers through his hair. She was crying silently, just wanting to make everything better. “You know we all love you right? I love you Connor... you’re my son... my baby boy... and I... I am so sorry that I haven’t been able to make things better for you...” she spoke weakly to him.

Connor let out a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "No, I... I'm sorry I... you didn't... you tried, and I... fuck, I-I'm bad at this, uhm..." He sniffled again, resting his head on his mother's shoulder.

Cynthia held him close, trying to calm him the way she did when he was younger. “No, you’re hurting... and I shouldn’t have let you hurt like that... I’m supposed to protect you...”

Connor shrugged weakly. "But you... tried, I guess... I'm just not good at... l-letting people in..." he choked out weakly.

“And that’s not your fault Connor..” she gently wiped his tears. “You’ve been living in a shitty way... and-and I should’ve been better about it... made things better..”

Connor felt this pit of guilt in his stomach. Did his whole family think like this? That it was entirely their fault that he was fucked up? He wasn't sure. God, he wasn't sure... but he had a feeling. "But you tried... so, y'know..."

“Connor sweetheart... I’m your mother... I’m supposed to take care of you, defend you... I’ve done a pretty bad job of that...” she kissed Connors head softly.

"No, you haven't..!" Connor defended. "You've... probably tried the most out of everyone. I just... I-I don't know... I... I'm sorry..."

Cynthia sighed softly and ran her fingers through his hair. “You have nothing to be sorry about... you’re hurting... and I haven’t defended you against your father... but I’m going to get you the help you need..”

Connor offered a watery smile. That was enough. That's all he needed now. "Thank you..." he mumbled, hugging his mother tightly again, cuddling against her like he did when he was a child.

Cynthia held him close, seeming like she was just scared. She was. She didn’t want to lose her son. “You’re going to be okay... I love you, you’re my son... I’m gonna defend you against your father, yeah?” She spoke gently. “I don’t want to lose my son...”

Connor clung onto her tight, mumbling an incoherent slur of words, a lot of them repeated, like "thank you" and "I love you" over and over again. It's been years since he'd bonded with his mother like this.

Cynthia rocked him gently, trying to calm him. After a while of calming him, she gently let go of him, starting to look through his drawers for any pills or things he could hurt himself with.

Connor wiped his eyes a bit as she searched. He wasn't going to say anything--his drawers had already been searched. The only thing of his concern was his small stash of weed tucked away at the bottom of a shoebox full of crap under his bed. It couldn't kill him or even hurt him, but still, that was something he knew he'd get scolded for. Or he thought he would.

 “Look, Connor... I know you have weed somewhere. I’ll leave it with you if you keep anything else bad for you out of here okay?” She looked to him.

Connor was honestly not expecting that as a reaction, but he nodded, sniffling slightly as he snatched a hair tie off of his wrist, pulling his hair back lazily out of his face.

Cynthia nodded softly. “Thank you Connor... just don’t smoke at home yeah? Your father will be upset...”

"I usually do it on the roof," Connor said, a small, half-assed grin on his face. "Never gotten caught by him up there yet."

Cynthia gave him a soft chuckle. “Let’s hope he doesn’t... y’know I used to do that stuff too.”

Connor suddenly raised an eyebrow. "No shit," he laughed. It was hard to picture his mother smoking pot.

She nodded with a soft laugh. “Yeah... for a while in college.”

"Damn, Mom, I would've never guessed," Connor chuckled. He paused before saying, "I'll be downstairs in a few minutes to help, uhm, clean up an everything..?"

Cynthia nodded to her son, offering a sweet smile and turning to leave. She stopped in the doorway and turned around, looking at her son. "Connor?"

The boy looked up. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

There was a pause, and Cynthia turned to leave. She stopped walking, tearing up when she heard, from behind her, a quiet:

"I love you, too, Mom."


End file.
